Scandals Of The Famous: The Scandalous Princess

This dinner was really just a pretext to spend time with her outside of camp, he knew. At least he was honest with himself about that. His clients might have mentioned wanting to meet the princess, but he could have deflected them, or brought them to the camp one day when everyone was there. He wanted her to come out with him. He wanted her, full stop.

And he didn’t know what to do about it. The wise and safe choice was to keep his distance, take her at face value, and let nothing shake his resolve or shatter his control.

Yet Ben didn’t feel like being safe any more. Or wise. He’d always lived a life of admirable and consistent restraint, and he was tired of it. He wanted Natalia with a fierceness he’d never felt before, a fierceness that felt right even though it terrified him.

This he could not control.

At five o’clock on Friday Natalia stood in front of the ornate full-length mirror in her room and gazed at her reflection. She’d toyed with the idea of wearing something like her silver spangled dress, short and outrageous, and then decided against it. She was tired of titillation. It had been her cover for so long, her way of keeping people from getting too close and guessing all of her deficiencies, but she didn’t want to do it tonight. She wasn’t sure she wanted to ever again.

And where, Natalia wondered, did that leave her? Who then could she be? She didn’t really have an answer. Sighing, she reached for a stunning diamond and emerald necklace that was part of her mother’s crown jewels. Made of twenty-four emeralds, each one surrounded by diamonds, the largest one at the center, nestling between her breasts, it was a magnificent piece of jewelry. Natalia had always thought it a bit ostentatious, not to mention heavy to wear, but she felt, for the sake of Ben’s clients, she’d better look every inch the princess tonight.

She paired the necklace with a starkly elegant cocktail dress in black silk that skimmed her curves and then flared out around her knees. The dress was elegant yet simple, making it a perfect backdrop for the necklace. She picked a pair of skyscraper heels with diamante straps to make the outfit a little less severe. A girl still had to have a little fun.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door, and her personal maid peeked in. ‘Mr Jackson is downstairs, Your Highness.’

‘Thank you, Ana.’ Natalia gave her reflection one more glance and, satisfied, reached for the silk fringed shawl and beaded clutch that matched her dress and headed downstairs.

Her breath dried in her throat at the sight of Ben in the palazzo’s soaring entrance hall. He wore a suit, just as he had at the engagement party and every day at the office, so there was no reason for him to look any different than before. Or for her to feel any different, and yet she did. Maybe it was the shared history they had now, or perhaps just this attraction she could no longer pretend to deny. Her gaze was helplessly drawn to his long, lithe body, the suit expertly tailored to showcase muscular legs, trim hips and powerful shoulders. The crisp white shirt and cobalt-blue silk tie emphasised the lean planes of his jaw and cheek, the steely blue of his eyes. He looked elegant and powerful, and it was an intoxicating combination.

Her legs felt a little trembly as she came down the marble staircase, Ben’s gaze intent upon her. He stretched out one hand towards her as she came to the last stair.

‘Good evening, Princess.’ For the first time her title didn’t feel like a mockery or sneer. It felt almost like an endearment. She smiled and took his hand.

‘Good evening.’

He nodded a farewell towards the liveried attendants standing sentry in the hall, and then led her out into the night. She felt a little bit like Cinderella, leaving the castle instead of going to it. And that was how she wanted it. As she breathed in the sultry night air she felt free. Free and maybe even happy, or at least something close to it.

‘So where are we going at such an unfashionably early hour?’ she asked as Ben opened the passenger door of his silver luxury model car.

‘Our dinner reservation is actually at eight. It’s going to take a little while to get there.’

‘A little while? You can drive the length of Santina in under two hours.’

Ben’s smile gleamed in the darkness as he started the car and drove smoothly down the palazzo’s curving drive and through the gates. ‘I never said we were going somewhere on Santina.’

His meaning was made clear when he pulled up to the island’s only airport fifteen minutes later. Natalia skidded to a halt in her stilettos as she stared at the tiny plane Ben had led her to in one remote corner of the airfield.

‘We’re going in that?’

‘My private jet,’ Ben said with just a touch of irony.

‘Let me tell you something, hotshot. For me, private jet means champagne, caviar and leather sofas. Not—’ She took a step forward so she could better inspect the plane. ‘A piece of cardboard and some chewing gum.’

‘I’ll have you know this is a Seabird Seeker 360, and it’s an amazing piece of equipment. It also cost four hundred thousand dollars.’

She folded her arms. ‘I’m sorry to say you got a very bad deal.’

‘Princess,’ Ben said with a thread of laughter in his voice, ‘are you scared?’

Natalia drew herself up and eyed the plane warily. ‘As a matter of fact,’ she told him, ‘yes. And not ashamed to admit it.’ For once.

Ben reached for one hand and lazily pulled her towards him. Natalia came reluctantly, more afraid to get so close to him than going up in that flimsy excuse for an airplane. ‘Come on, Natalia,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll keep you safe.’

And Natalia wondered if he was talking about flying in the Seabird, or something else entirely. Something far more important and frightening. Her heart thudded against her ribs and she managed a light laugh only with effort.

‘Let me see your pilot’s license.’

‘You don’t trust me?’ He was still holding her hand, the other hand resting lightly on her back, and he’d drawn her so close the hem of her dress brushed against his legs. She breathed in the now-familiar scent of his aftershave and felt, quite literally, dizzy.

‘Not an inch,’ she managed, and made herself draw back.

Ben let her go. ‘If you’re really scared, we can charter a bigger plane,’ he said, his tone turning serious. ‘I made sure there was one available.’

His thoughtfulness touched her, even though she didn’t want it to. She didn’t want this man to affect her, to slip under her defenses so easily, and yet right now, in the sultry darkness with him standing so close, she couldn’t quite summon one of her cutting remarks that had served her so well in the past. ‘Let me at least take a look at this thing,’ she said, and turned towards the plane.

It was very cozy. Two leather seats side by side in a cockpit, and glass all around. Flying in it would, Natalia thought, be amazing. If she let herself go. If she trusted Ben.

Why was that thought so scary, far more frightening than actually getting inside this piece of scrap metal?

‘Well?’ Ben asked. She’d clambered up so she was halfway into the cockpit, and she could sense Ben’s presence behind her, feel the heat of him.

‘I suppose it might be all right,’ she said grudgingly, and Ben let out a dry chuckle.

‘High praise from the princess. Get in.’ He put his hands on her hips and guided her into the low-slung seat, sending a flare of awareness and heat low through her pelvis. Yes, she thought, swallowing drily, this really was quite cozy.

Ben felt a jagged jolt of desire ricochet from his hands through his whole body. He couldn’t keep from touching her. He watched Natalia settle into her seat, and he could still feel the curve of her hips on his palms, imagine pulling her closer, fitting her to him.

He forced the thought away and slid into his own seat. ‘You sure you can fly this thing?’ she asked, and he slid her a knowing smile.

‘Watch me.’

‘Oh, I will.’

Was he imagining the wicked innuendo in her voice? He knew he felt it. Everything about this whole evening felt agonisingly charged, even more than the last time they’d been out together. For even with the ultimate distraction of Natalia sitting less than a foot away from him, her skin so smooth and golden, the dress hugging the curve of her breasts and the dip of her waist so lovingly, he realised something else. Something deeper.

He was happy.

When had he last felt this relaxed with a woman? When had he last enjoying just being with someone so much? He couldn’t remember. Maybe never. And even though the more rational part of his mind was insisting that this was Natalia, spoilt party princess whose exploits featured in nearly every tabloid, the rest of him wanted to drown out that nagging whine and just relax. Enjoy.

Be happy.

He started taxiing down the runway. Natalia gripped the leather armrest. ‘You’re not actually phobic, are you?’ he asked in genuine concern, and she gave him another one of her wicked looks.

‘A little late to ask me that, isn’t it?’

He let out a dry laugh. ‘I suppose so.’

‘Fortunately I’m not. I’m scared of plenty of things, but not flying. Although I’ve never flown in a tin can before, so I suppose I could nurture a bit of phobia if I put my mind to it.’